


dark red

by lemonybliss



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Dave Strider Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, also tw for unreality / dissociation descrption like . i go pretty in depth, big tw for csa / physical abuse / manipulation and all those shenanigans, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:53:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26865457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonybliss/pseuds/lemonybliss
Summary: dave returns to memories of his childhood. karkat worries about him.
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas
Kudos: 65





	dark red

**Author's Note:**

> yes im projecting my traumas onto my kintype what about it

dave couldn't see.

usually, he could. his eyes worked just fine. of course, his eyes not working did not register as something wrong to him. when all he saw was what looked like the backsides of his eyelids he just assumed he'd closed his eyes and wouldn't open them. couldn't open them. but nothing was wrong. he felt fine.

his stomach felt a bit too light. like it was floating, crawling up his torso, trying to reach somewhere it shouldn't be. at the same time, his heart was slowly dropping. it felt like his heart and his stomach hit eachother, like they were pushing against eachother. he was really nauseous. was he asleep? that would make sense. usually people that are sleeping can't see. but then again, people don't think while they're sleeping either.

he felt that if he would open his eyes the world wouldn't be there anymore. he felt like he could fall through the earth and end up on the other side. he felt like he stepped one foot through a mirror but his other one remained still. he felt like time had stopped and he was the only one able to move.

he opened his eyes.

fuck. he was in bed, his head on his pillow, his hair in front of his eyes. there was an arm wrapped around his waist from behind. that would've been fine, were it not for the fact that dave did not know whose arm this was. all he knew was that there was a body pressing against his, wrapping around him like a cocoon, trapping him. he couldn't breathe.

his lungs felt like they had shrunk three times in size. suddenly everything was blurry, it was like the walls were breathing, the floor was made of water, the ceiling was looking at him. he blinked but everything _breathed_ \- he was no more alive than the posters on the wall. he was pretty sure he'd died.

he hurriedly pushed the arm off his waist. he knew who this was. he wanted, needed to get away. it was him. fuck. it couldn't be anyone else. the walls breathed rapidly, matching his rhythm. what happened? why couldn't he remember why bro was here, wrapped around him? _what did he do?_

he felt vile, he felt dirty, he felt disgusting, so so so gross. he felt hurt, he felt horrible, he felt terrified, he felt like a fucking disappointment. he was so gross. he was so gross and he could never wash this off his skin. his skin would forever know his brother's touch and his brother's breath and his brother's hands and it would always remember how impure dave had become. never again would he be pure. never again would he be clean. 

his cheeks were warm, they were red hot with tears he didn't remember shedding. his hands were so cold, almost fucking frozen. he put his hands over his mouth, touched his hot cheeks with his cold fingers. he wondered what would happen if he ate his fingers. if they were even his.

"uh - dave?" the whisper tore through the fabric of the room. 

oh god. he'd woken him up. he's gonna be so mad. he's gonna be livid. dave wasn't supposed to wake him up. he closed his eyes and laid his head back on his pillow, hoping ever so desperately his brother wouldn't notice he'd ever been awake. the pillow engulfed him as if he was a rock thrown into a vast ocean. he felt like he sank way deeper than he should have.

"dave? sit up."

so he'd noticed. dave opened his eyes again, slowly rising from the depths, as if he washed up to shore. sitting up made his head wobble. he felt like he was inside of a tv. trapped in a world where nothing is real and he just had to play along.

"sorry bro. i just had a nightmare. i won't do it again" nothing about his words felt like he said it. they felt like they were somehow dripping from his lips, like he vomited them instead of speaking them.

"hey - look at me." 

he couldn't move his eyes. his head was wobbly. he dipped his head a little and turned it towards bro. he blinked a few times.

this wasn't bro. what? 

"dave - what's going on? talk to me, _please_."

the man talking to him wasn't his brother. the man that had his arm wrapped around him wasn't bro. bro was dead. bro was fucking dead.

"karkat, i'm -" he couldn't think of words to say. "god. i've been so - so _stupid_."

karkat's brown eyes looked pretty in this light. his hair stuck to his face. it must be hot outside.

"you're not stupid. tell me, what's up?"

silence.

"why did you call me bro?" karkat grabbed dave's face, looking into his blood red eyes. dave looked away.

"i'm, uh. i'm sorry. i - i forgot bro is... dead?" he didn't know why that sounded so much like a question.

karkat nodded. it was like something tugged his chin. he looked tense.

"i'm sorry for worrying you. let's go back to sleep."

"no - let's, uh... would you be okay with talking about this a bit?

not really. "okay."

"okay," karkat looked confused. "i know that you haven't had a great uh, childhood. but to be honest, i know jack shit about what happened, especially with bro."

dave shrugged a bit. "uhm. yeah, i guess you don't."

"as your matesprit i feel like, a need to know what's going on with you. what's upsetting you, and what we can do to make it better, you know?"

"yeah i guess. i don't know i - maybe this isn't something you want to know?" dave had considered telling him before, of course he had. he was just - he was so worried that karkat would be mad. or that it would upset him. of course it would upset him.

"i do. i can handle it. i won't get mad at you, okay?" karkat opened his arms, inviting dave to wrap himself in them. and he did, though he wasn't sure if he wanted to.

"okay." dave gulped. "uh, well. i think everyone knows about his training for me. he took it a little far sometimes. i got really hurt sometimes. i mean, it's okay, he wanted to train me to be better, so it's okay. i just - i still don't really understand some things he did. like, he pushed me down a few flights of stairs sometimes. i don't really see the real life purpose of falling down a lot of stairs, ya know?" 

karkat nodded. he didn't say anything, making dave feel like he had to fill the silence with more.

"and, i mean - he'd come into my room at night sometimes and... yknow. you can guess? i don't really see the purpose of that either." the walls exhaled softly, and dave looked at his hands, wondering if they were still attached to his body.

"uhm. dave. do you, like... know that these things aren't okay?"

sure he did. but he couldn't fucking admit it. he wouldn't. "i guess."

"he wasn't training you. he was abusing you."

dave knew that. he knew that, somewhere, bro had just been using him as entertainment. as some kind of _sick_ pastime. but, for some reason, hearing it from karkat, the man he loved the most in this world... it was different. it was like his head had been dunked in a bucket of ice cold water. he could finally _think_.

he was abused. 


End file.
